


What Is Human?

by VenezuelanWriter



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Sense8 (TV) Fusion, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canonical Character Death, Eventual Happy Ending, F/F, F/M, M/M, Psychic Abilities, Psychic Bond, Sense8 AU, Suicide, Telepathic Bond, Work In Progress, long fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2016-10-13
Packaged: 2018-08-18 18:04:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8170853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VenezuelanWriter/pseuds/VenezuelanWriter
Summary: Seven people scattered around the world start discovering they're connected in the most personal of ways. They share their feelings, their skills, and knowledge... and on top of it all, life, love and evilness happen.    (Or a Sense8 AU).





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone!!!
> 
> I’ve wanted for a while to commit myself to write a long fic and finally, I got the inspiration I needed for it. I’ll try _hard_ to update regularly :).
> 
> Thanks Sense 8 for the AU idea because seriously it was too good not to write a fanfic.
> 
> For fics reasons, Thea and Oliver aren’t siblings in this fic. Tommy isn’t Merlyn’s son, either (it’s called AU for a reason, right? xD).
> 
> On tumblr, I created a tag for this fic [(#what is human @marian-elisa)](http://marian-elisa.tumblr.com/tagged/what-is-human) so if I have any updates about it or the time I’ll take to post that’s how I’ll let you know (or if I want to ramble about something related to this. Yeah, expect a lot of that).
> 
> Unbeta'd.

“Tess, don’t do this,” Harrison pleads. “I love you.”

Tess shakes her head with tears streaming down her face. “I have to, Harry. He’ll find us.” The cold stone of the abandoned school against her feet make her tremble.

“We’ll find another way.” He takes a step, trying to reach her, though it feels impossible.

“I’m scared, Harry.”

“Oh,” Tess listens to the familiar voice in her ear. “Tess, you’ve already threatened to do this. We both know you won’t do it.” Her crying intensifies.

“Tess,” Harrison tries. “Is he here?”

Tess nods. “He thinks I’m not going to do it.” She closes her eyes and for the briefest of moments feels the loneliness in the room; it tranquilizes her. But she has to focus, talk to Harrison.

“Is that Harrison you’re talking to?” Eobard asks, voice cynical.

“Shut up,” she snaps. With a soft voice, she directs to Harrison. “I see them, I see them all honey. I can leave now.”

“Tess!”

It’s too late; she already pulled the trigger.

* * *

**Central City, U. S. A.**

“Mom,” Barry whispers. He shifts on his bed at the dream of that painful night. His kid-self runs down the stairs at his childhood home from his father’s screaming. “Mom,” echoes in his head. He must’ve repeated that word at least a thousand times that day.

Then he turns around the corner and he’s no longer a kid, but a grown adult wearing his police officer uniform. Next comes the part of this repetitive nightmare when he sees his mother passing away, but instead on their parent’s bed, he sees a woman he’s never seen before shot herself.

He wakes up at the scene, unconsciously grabbing the gun he keeps on his bedside table until he realizes everything was a dream. However, he can’t keep sleeping since a strong headache is perturbing his head.

Looking for aspirins at the bathroom, Barry curses under his breath. Music is playing too loud for 3 am of a Tuesday. It’s some electronic mix of I Took a Pill in Ibiza and he enjoys the song, whenever he’s not trying to fucking sleep.

Putting on one of his sleeping shirts on the way, he lazily goes to knock on his neighbors’ door.

“Hey, this is the neighbor.” Some seconds pass. Nothing.

He knocks again, this time louder. “Hello?”

He sighs, angry. “This is the police, open the door!” When he doesn’t get a reply, he decides to break in the apartment. The room is empty and quiet.

* * *

**Milan, Italy.**

“I have to leave, mom,” Felicity insists. “Where is the umbrella?”

“Stop worrying, you’ll do great!” Donna screams from the kitchen.

“The umbrella, mom,” she asks again looking for it where it’s supposed to be next the apartment door.

“It’s sunny, hun,” her mother announces stepping out of the kitchen.

“What are you…” Felicity walks towards the window. “I heard the thunders.” Then, she looks up and finds a blue and clear sky. She wrinkles her nose. “Weird.”

Without overthinking the incident, her minds goes back to the fact that she’s late, needs to leave and there’s no longer something stopping her from it.

Felicity walks to the door again, Donna following her steps.

 “You’re just nervous,” her mom tells her.

“Maybe. I have reasons to be.” Felicity hugs her goodbye.

“Call me when you’re done!” She waves and Felicity leaves throwing her a quick kiss.

“Love you, mom!”

* * *

 

**Cali, Colombia.**

_All I know are sad songs, songs, songs, songs, so-so-so…_

Cisco drops the beat and the different electronic and rhythmical sounds flood the club. People jump at the music and he loses himself in his headphones mixing the tracks. He jumps too and sings along the song, loving how the energy is clear in the air, knowing he’s creating that mood among the people.

Two hours later, when it’s another DJ’s turn, he’s done for the night so he meets with Hartley and his friends outside the club, like they always do when they go to see him perform.

“Cisco,” Hartley says, “this is Matt and his girlfriend Kate,” he introduces them.

Cisco waves at them politely.

“That was awesome,” Matt tells him. “Trust me, I come here often and nothing sounds like that.”

Cisco smiles. “Thanks.” He takes a long sip of his drink and frowns when he puts the glass down. “Uh, I’ll go, guys, I have a terrible migraine.”

“I figure, with all that music, right?” Kate asks.

“You should’ve seen him freak out at the park,” Hartley tells them. “Right, Cisco?”

The woman Cisco had seen at the park, when he’d freaked out, crosses his thoughts again, like if he couldn’t control the image of her suicide appearing in his head.

“Oh, that just was too much weed,” he lies, still moved at the vision in his head. He doesn’t even like smoking these days. He wonders why he pretends he does, but maybe it’s because this lonely life full of fake friends wouldn’t even have that if he said that he thinks doing drugs is immature.

“You should try what Matt got tonight,” Hartley suggests.

Cisco shakes his head. “No thanks. I’ll see you around,” Cisco directs to the other couple, “and it was nice to meet you.”

He turns on his heels and starts walking to the nearest bus stop, hoping they’re still on service because walking to his street would be too dangerous this late.

* * *

 **Marseille, France**.

Sitting behind her white desk at her office, Thea picks up the entering call from her PA.

“Yes Carol?” She asks.

“Ms. Merlyn, since your father hasn’t shown up for work this morning, could you receive the client that was scheduled for today?”

“Sure. What client was it?”

“Roy Harper. He’s here representing-”

Thea smiles to herself. “Harper Industries. I know who he is. Tell him to come in.”

She’s always thought the young business man is cute, so she’s actually happy her father didn’t show up this morning. Shortly after Thea’s hung up the call, Roy Harper walks into her office with a smug smile on his lips.

“I’m sorry,” Roy says, “I was going to meet with Malcolm Merlyn?”

“I’m his daughter, Thea Merlyn.” Thea smiles kindly. “Vice-president and Director of the Economy Department, too.” She offers her hand but he ignores it.

“We were supposed to close a deal. Women don’t close things, they open them,” he says suggestively.

Thea hates the fact that this city is so behind on the women empowerment. They’re still supposed to have less important charges at companies or lower salaries. She’s always tried to break the rule, make a difference, but her father never talks about her and tries to avoid people asking about his family. Everything “for the greater good”, the well-being and stability of the business. She’s constantly reminded of that in occasions like these, when, in order to prevent the client from leaving and not sealing the deal with their company, she has to fake a smile and cope with these sexist attitudes.

“I’m sure we can discuss the deal, anyway.”

* * *

**Hamburg, Germany.**

Thunders play on the background of the sad event. A priest is praying Our Father and soon rain will seal this beautiful ceremony that honors the memory of Laurel Lance.

Oliver is by Tommy’s side, comforting him with a hand on his back.

“I’m so sorry,” Oliver whispers fighting his own weariness.

“Oliver, the worst part is,” Tommy struggles to get his words out through his sobbing. “She never really knew me. The _real_ me, what I did for a living.”

Oliver shakes his head. “You think she would’ve liked to remember you like the guy who cracked saves and stole people’s money, Tommy? You were protecting her – _We_ were.”

Tommy’s hands go to shred the tears on his cheeks and eyes and he sniffs. “This just doesn’t feel right.”

They’re interrupted when the rest of the attendants say Amen in unison. Rain starts falling, as expected, and black umbrellas are opened. People start walking away or distancing from the rest, just leaving next to Laurel’s grave those who were closest to her.

Captain Lance is kneeled beside his daughter’s tombstone and Oliver wants to offer a word of support, but turning around he sees this young woman, brunette, wearing a white housecoat, gun in hand.

He blinks in disbelief but the woman is still there, looking him right in the eyes. When the gun is in her mouth, although Oliver at first doubted this was real, it feels pretty real and he would never let someone do this.

“Wait!” he screams. Captain Lance and Tommy turn to see him with confused looks drawn on their faces, so he points to where the woman is, just to find out she’s already gone.

“There, this was a woman…” Oliver stops talking. If he’s losing his mind, it’s not the right time to worry his mourning best friend; this can’t totally wait.

“Oliver, something wrong?” Tommy asks him without paying too much attention, distracted and obviously devastated.

Oliver thinks about leaving, giving his friend some space, sorting whatever it’s wrong with him out. But he knows Tommy doesn’t want space, but a supporting friend that helps him get over this.

“No,” he says softly, knowing that if he’d had the energy to, Tommy would pressure him to tell him what had happened. “I’m here right now, for you.”

* * *

**Montreal, Canada.**

“Why are you here?” Mick asks behind the Mir’s desk.

“I’m here,” Sara starts, “because I’m going to make you pay.”

She’s getting a gun out of her pocket, when she’s abruptly interrupted by the director of the scene.

“Cut!” he screams from his chair. “Sara, honey,” he goes to her side. “What’s going on with you today? First you claimed there was an intruder on set, now you can’t remember your lines…”

She shakes her head, ashamed. “I don’t know, Jeff. I think I need to take a break.”

“Take it, sweetie. Today maybe it’s not your day.” He pouts and she tiredly smiles as a thank you before walking to her dressing room.

At her dressing room, Sara tries to focus and clear her head.

“I’m Jessica Smith,” she tells herself in front of the mirror. “Jessica Smith, who seeks revenge for her daughter’s murder.”

Pacing, she keeps repeating it, though her head just gets blurrier.

“Jessica Smith,” she whispers. There’s a flame burning on her low stomach she has no idea where it’s come from. She ignores it as best as he can and keeps repeating her lines to get in character.

“Oh fuck,” she mumbles as her hand can’t help going to her nipple above her thin shirt. “Sara, _focus_ , goddamit.”

By the time when she’s even more aroused and less focused, a knock on the door gets her out of her messy thoughts.

“Come in,” she says quietly from the chair in front of her dressing table, aware of the thinness of these walls.

Her costar Leonard walks in.

“Everything alright?” He asks. “You’ve been in here like twenty minutes. Jeff is asking when you would show up.”

“Yeah, I’ve just been distracted, it’s nothing.” Sara stands up to face him, crossing her arms over her chest so he doesn’t notice her gross and hardened nipples.

However, she’s not fast enough for him not to catch a glimpse of what she’s trying to hide.

“If there’s anything I can help you with,” he suggests, shrugging. “So your mind stops going to the wrong places…”

Sara smiles apologetically. Leonard is cute, but not the right person for her.

“Len,” she simply warns with soft eyes. “I, um, my heart already belongs to another.”

Leonard nods taken off guard. At least it’s a well justified rejection and it’s nothing personal. “I understand,” he whispers before leaving Sara’s dressing room.

* * *

**Birmingham, England.**

“Oh, God, _yes_ ,” Caitlin moans beneath Ronnie.

Ronnie kisses her with passion, still thrusting in her beautiful body.

Moments later, when they’ve both reached the orgasm and are laying next to one another with closed eyes, Ronnie kisses again Caitlin’s lips, though this time sweetly and slowly.

“Happy anniversary, baby,” he whispers after the lip lock.

Her eyes bright and her smile is huge as she replies, “Happy anniversary to you, too.”

* * *

Barry is on his way to work, late as usual. He owns a Twingo he’s really thankful to have, but traffic just _sucks_.

His cell phone starts ringing; the caller ID reads Joe. He calls sometimes and Barry appreciates it. Joe is like a second father to him, because after cancer took Barry’s mom away from him, whenever he didn’t want to be at his place, he went to the West house with Iris, Wally and Joe.

“Hey, Joe. What’s up?”

“Hi, son. I was calling to check on you, figuring you’re on your way work.”

“Yeap, I’m late.”

“You’re always late. Iris was telling me…” Barry suddenly stops paying attention to Joe’s voice, his surroundings change from a moment to another. He doesn’t know how or even _if_ this is happening, but somehow he’s no longer trapped between other cars, but in the empty streets of somewhere that wasn’t the U.S., he’s sure.

It looks like somewhere in Europe, but he couldn’t tell what country. When he tries to hit the gas pedal, he’s met with the car in front of his in the traffic of Central City.

“Bar? Are you listening?” Joe’s voice asks.

He frowns and looks around, trying to see again the foreign location. “The weirdest thing just happened. I think I need to go to a doctor, Joe. I’ll call you back.”

“Bar-” But Barry hangs up and frowns when the pissed off woman driving the car he just hit gets out of her seat.

* * *

Felicity takes deep breaths, hands on the steering wheel.

“Whenever you’re ready,” the man on the copilot’s seat tells her. The woman she’s been imagining –she’s convinced this _can’t_ be real- shows up in the middle of the road, with gun in hand just as the two other times.

 _It’s not real_ , Felicity thinks, hitting the gas pedal. She’s tense and nervous, the woman is looking her right in the eyes.

Felicity hits the gas pedal before reaching the woman; she can’t help it. She looks too real to ignore her. Something terrible evidently happened to her and she can _feel_ it.

“What was that for?” the forty-year-old looking man asks her.

She shakes her head with a frustrated sight, rests her forehead on the steering wheel and looks up again to find the road empty.

“I don’t even have a good reason,” she says with her annoyance reflected on her tone.

Eventually, she fails her driving test again.

 

“Hey, honey,” she says on the phone.

“How’s the most beautiful fiancée ever?” Ray asks her.

“Not good,” she answers and sighs. “I failed my test. Again.”

“You’ll get your driving license soon. You just need to practice more, hun.”

* * *

“Eddie, I think I’m hallucinating,” Barry tells his partner as soon as he meets him in the Central City police station.

“I knew you were crazy, Allen, but you admitting it actually worries me,” Eddie jokes.

“No, seriously. I’ve been seeing things lately.”

“What, ESP?”

Barry considers it for a second. “No, I don’t think so. Do you think so?”

Eddie scoffs. “I think you’ve been working overtime too much lately and that you need to take a break soon.”

Barry isn't satisfied with Eddie's answer but takes it anyway, letting the subject drop.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first time writing more than half of these characters, guys. I hope I’m making them justice. Remember you can keep track of my “what is human” tag on tumblr (@marian-elisa) to be updated about updates ;)

Felicity hangs up with Ray with mixed feelings in her chest. She’s just arrived home after failing her driving test for the _third_ time and the call with Ray just refreshes her doubts about marrying him.

She gets in her room and sits behind her laptop, opening her anonymous blog and feeling like writing an entry.

She created this blog five years ago, when she was still in college. It was her break up with Cooper Sheldon what made her start feeling like sharing her life, venting all of her adventures somewhere, those she couldn’t share with her family and sometimes not even with her friends.

_Today I couldn’t pass my driving test. Again. I feel like this blog is going to stop being anonymous if I break the record as the woman who’s failed this test so many times._

_But today I wasn’t nervous like the other days and I had actually practiced. It was for an entirely different reason that I failed my test. I was just starting the car, on the same road that I’ve always done the test. And then suddenly I had some sort of vision. I know it sounds crazy, I think I was hallucinating. I saw a woman, she had a gun in hand… I froze. And I hit the breaks. But of course, I was imagining it, so by the end of the test I was even recommended to visit a psychiatrist._

_Anyway. Since I know I haven’t updated you recently on the matter: my wedding is getting close and I still don’t feel convinced about this. The whole thing, marriage, the man I’ll marry… it doesn’t feel right altogether. I’m not sure of why I’m doing it. Is it that I’m 27 already? Is it my mom’s excitement and the pressure alone of my father getting back on speaking terms with her just because of my wedding?_

_I do love this man, but I’m not sure I’m in love with him._

_I know, dear readers, that you’ll try to stop me. But I don’t think something can make me step back now. It feels too late._

_Overwatch, out._

She disables the commenting for the entry, tired of her reader’s thoughts that just get her anxious about not marrying Ray.

* * *

Thea wakes up startled at the nightmare of a woman killing herself. There’s a feeling of recognition in her chest like if she'd known this woman, even when she’s sure she’s never seen her before.

She decides to go to the boxing club and kick some asses. It’s opened 24 hours and this is the kind of situations when she actually _needs_ to go and clear her head.

Washing her face in the bathroom, after drying it up she looks up to meet a reflection that isn’t hers, but instead she sees a blonde, green-eyed woman.

In her dressing room, Sara takes a step back. She swears she’s seeing this, that this isn’t a product of “too much stress” or “too much creativity”. This short haired girl on her mirror is _real_ and is looking back to her.

Scared and without understanding what’s going on, Thea takes a step back too and focuses on the mirror, just to suddenly see her own reflection again.

Sara frowns, looking over her shoulder, wondering if someone else might have seen it, wondering if it was a trick from the production team and just wondering what the fuck was that.

Thea washes her face once more, wanting to clear all the loud and confusing thoughts that are around her head. If something is going to help her, is probably going to her favorite place on this city.

* * *

After the incident between shots, Sara finally arrives home after a long day of work. Her couple is already asleep, but she decides to wake her up anyway with a kiss.

“Nyssa,” she whispers.

“My love,” Nyssa whispers back with eyes half-closed. “I thought you’d never make it tonight.”

“I’m sorry it’s so late.” Sara sits on the edge of the bed and shrugs. “Wasn’t sure if I should’ve woken you up.” Her palm caresses Nyssa’s arm.

“You can make it up for me now that I am.”

Nyssa smiles mischievously and Sara gets under the covers with her, so she can “make it up” for how late it is. To be honest, after the stress of today at the studio, Sara is convinced she at least deserves this.

* * *

“Fifty-eight minutes, Oliver,” Tommy warns. He’s watching the door and making sure nothing turns out wrong while Oliver does his magic and cracks the safe that belongs to one of Tommy’s cousins. The man is a freaking gangster and there are diamonds in that safe enough to cover the costs of the rest of his lifetime, at least.

“I hope to be done in twenty,” Oliver replies.

There’s a lot of noise that doesn’t allow him to focus and listen to the micro sounds of the safe with the stethoscope, something like a cheering crowd, distant, screaming something like… _Thea_ , he guesses.

 

At least with five spare minutes Tommy and him walk out of the house again, leaving behind a diamond-less safe and with hearts racing at the speed of sound.

 

* * *

Walking into Hartley’s living room (although Cisco wonders why he decided to spend his night off at his place, knowing him and Matt will insist him on smoking), he distantly listens to sirens. _What the fuck_ , he wonders, since they sound like the ones from police cars in movies and not like Cali’s ambulance sirens.

 

“Unit 452,” Eddie replies on the radio from the copilot seat. “We’re on 1st and Main, on our way there.”

Barry turns on the siren and they make it as quick as possible to the warehouse where a shooting was reported.

They park haphazardly the car on the street and rush out with their guns in hand, asking for backup. After breaking in and searching the place, they just find out that criminals were already gone and had left a shot boy –probably fifteen years old or younger–, bleeding out.

“Help me,” the kid whispers.

Barry’s eyes go to the wound on his stomach and he puts his gun down.

“What up?” Eddie asks him, still looking over his shoulders.

Barry kneels beside the kid and stops the blood from keep shedding by applying direct pressure against it with his shirt.

“Gunshot,” Barry answers. “Looks like a hollow point. Get an ambulance.”

“What?” Eddie snaps.

“You heard me.”

“What, you think this is TV? No ambulance is going to come here for a gunshot.” They were in one of Central City's zones with the highest crime rate.  Eddie puts his gun down and stops worrying about more gang members showing up. “The fuck you doing, Allen?”

“What’s your name, kid?” Barry asks.

“Kevin,” the boy answers barely audibly.

“Kevin, I’m Barry. I need you to press as hard as you can here.” Barry puts pressure on Kevin’s shirt, where he’s trying to hold on the bleeding. Kevin silently nods. Barry carries him bridal style and starts walking out of there.

“Are you kidding me?” Eddie asks.

“Don’t wanna keep standing there and let him die.”

“That’s what _he_ would do with us.”

Barry walks pass him with Kevin in his arms and completely ignores Eddie's comment. “Goddammit,” Eddie whispers before following them.

 

“You okay?” Barry asks Kevin, holding him in his legs in the backseat of the patrol.

“Just a little cold,” Kevin answers with a little shudder, although he’s sweating. Barry covers him with his uniform jacket.

“This your first time in the backseat, Barry?”

Barry’s lips offer a slight smirk. He appreciates Kevin’s attempt at small talk so he follows suit. “I’ve been here more times than I care to admit.”

“You’re some sort of a gangster cop or something?”

“Raised by a cop. I spent a lot of school afternoons in here.”

“Never met my dad,” Kevin murmurs. “Shot before I was born.”

Barry doesn’t know how to answer that, so he just nods silently and puts more pressure in Kevin’s stomach. “You’re gonna be fine.”

 

Barry storms into the E.R. with Kevin in arms.

“Emergency! This boy is bleeding bad, here!”

The nurse who was closest to him approaches him. She looks over Kevin and without even flinching, she says, “That’s a gunshot.”

“Yeah, I know,” Barry answers.

“I’m sorry, we can’t treat that here.”

“What?!”

“Are you new? You need to find him n ambulance and take him to the St. Patrick Hospital on 6th and Roosevelt.”

Barry starts shaking his head. “The kid’s gonna be dead before we get there.”

“I’m sorry, it’s policy.”

“What kind of policy lets a kid die?!” He asks, indigenized.

“We would lose so many resources because of gunshots, we couldn’t take care of all the other patients in here. We’ve been better hospital since we stopped admitting kids like him.”

“Please,” Barry tries again, with a sweaty face and heavy eyelids.

The nurse looks at the wound and she recognizes the desperation in Barry’s face, a _police officer's_ face, finally giving him an accepting glance.

 

 

Cisco looks around, finding himself in the streets of a city he doesn’t know but that for sure isn’t even in his continent. Signs are in English but he was good enough at school (and he had common sense) to know he's outside a hospital. He’s walking next to a blond-haired man he doesn’t know, who's also wearing a police uniform and a bulletproof vest.

Barry frowns, feeling out of himself for a few seconds, literally speaking. When he gets in the patrol, this time in the copilot seat, he sees a long-haired, brunet cute guy standing outside his window.

Cisco brushes the window with his fingertips, missing the weird connection the moment it’s gone. Then he finds himself sitting in the place of the guy he’d just seen, in the copilot seat, and although he doesn’t understand what’s happening and he’s more than sure he’s never visited this place, when the car passes by a certain building, he just feels drowned to it.

 “This is where it happened,” Cisco whispers.

“What happened?” Eddie asks.

“The suicide,” Barry answers. “Stop the car.”

“Hm?”

“I said, stop the car, Eddie,” Barry repeats firmly.

When they walk into the school, Barry is even surer that this is the right place. This is where the woman in his vision killed herself and he _knows_ it.

Barry is leading them into the structure and Eddie follows him unconvinced.

“Allen, can you tell me what’s going on?”

“Eddie, it was _here_.”

Barry stops on the very same spot where Tess died. He realizes that for no actual reason, he knows which her name was, and just he keeps standing there trying to find answers to all the questions his mind is processing.

Eddie interrupts his thoughts. “Do you mind explaining?”

“I’ve been seeing this… a woman,” Barry turns to Eddie and makes a pause, pursing his lips tight as he figures out if he should tell him the rest of the story. “…Killing herself. And this is where it happened. I don’t expect you to believe me, honestly.”

“Maybe it happened in the fifth dimension and that’s why we can’t see it.”

Barry rolls his eyes, annoyed. “Listen, I’ll find you solid evidence and I’ll prove I’m not insane.”

“Cool. Until then, I’ll be waiting in the car.”

Barry shrugs. “Awesome.”

When Eddie’s gone, Barry turns again and he sees the same guy he’d seen at the hospital before he got in the patrol.

“This is where she died,” Cisco tells the stranger in front of him, the one he can qualify as cute _and_ hot. But for some reason, he doesn’t feel anxious or nervous for his presence _or_ the fact that he has no idea of how he got there. He feels relaxed and peaceful, even when the anguish he’d experienced when he first got the image of that woman, right here, committing suicide, was inexplicable.

“Did you know her?” Barry asks. The shorter man just shakes his head quietly. “How did you know?”

“I saw her.”

Barry nods and takes a step forward. “Do you live here?” The other denies with his head and offers a shy smile. “Where do you live?

“Cali.”

Barry frowns. “As in, Colombia?”

“ _Exactamente_.”

The Spanish on the guy’s voice is sweet and fluid, he sounds more confident when he speaks in that language and Barry’s heart beats a little bit faster when he realizes he’d understood what the guy said.

“What are you doing here?” Barry asks him.

Cisco looks around for the first time, seeing the broken windows and crumbled walls. “I don’t know.” He makes a short pause and then adds, “I don’t know where I am.”

“Central City,” Barry answers with a grin.

“In America?” Cisco asks immediately, surprised, not even stopping to admire the guy’s warm grin. The guy nods in response and Cisco’s voice is cheery when he answers, “I’ve never been to America!”

The tormenting sound of gunshots in Hartley’s living room alarm Cisco and he comes back to his senses, to the reality: there’s a man pointing to Matt with a gun, and two others standing behind him and Hartley on the couch.

“My, my, the places where you’d hide, Matthew,” the man with Matt at gunpoint says.  He’s acting calmly and wears a fancy jacket, so Cisco assumes he’s the leader of the trio.

“Mardon,” Matt answers simply, still on the couch.

Mardon, as Cisco just learned, stops pointing his gun to Matt and puts it away. “I don’t think we need to get all bloody tonight, do we?”

Hartley is nervous like he’s never been before, and with the effects of weed in his system, he’s not thinking clear when the best choice seems to run out of there.

The man behind him  stops him easily and wraps an arm around his neck. He uses so much strength that knocks Hartley out and he falls to the floor.

“I know I owe you,” Matt says, “But I’m going to pay. And these guys have no fault on this.”

Cisco closes his eyes and starts to pray mentally at the sight of Hartley on this living room floor. Sometimes he wondered why he was still friends with him but he’d never wished him dead. And now _he_ could be the one facing death.

Mardon shrugs. “Seem to be inconvenient for me.”

The man who was busy with Hartley goes for Matt, but Matt gets a gun out of his ankle holster.

Barry immediately starts sweating, there are _dangerous_ men in the room and the guy he’d just shared a moment with is trembling and distressed next to him on the couch. Barry even listens to his prayers in the back of his mind.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Mardon tells Matt. “How smart would it be to kill one of my men? I’m here to clear debts, that’s all, Matty.”

“Just-” Cisco struggles his nerves to speak loud enough for Matt to listen, but the fear of the man behind him having the power to kill him anytime is giving him a hard time accomplishing the task of formulating words. “Give him what he wants, dammit.”

Matt looks between the man who's knocked Hartley off and Mardon, and then he turns to Hartley and to Cisco’s face, which, with every second that passes, screams louder and louder how dreadful he is. “I’ll go with you. No guns, no tricks. But don’t hurt them anymore.”

Barry doesn’t know how, but once again he’s out of that place and back to the abandoned school by himself.

Matt puts his gun down and the man acting under Mardon’s orders takes him by the back and puts his head in a black fabric bag.

“Don’t let him follow us,” Mardon tells the remaining man behind Cisco, and although with widened eyes Cisco tries to shake his head, he has no time to register what happened before his vision goes black and he joins an unconscious Hartley on the floor.

* * *

 

On their special dinner date, Caitlin and Ronnie are at a fancy restaurant like those they don’t frequent often.

Their hands are interlaced above the white table-cloth and Caitlin smiles at the sight of their wedding rings next to each other.

“I love you,” she whispers.

“I love you more,” he replies with an equally tender tone.

They drink the most divine wine the restaurant has, and after they’ve had the best lobster of their life, Caitlin excuses herself to go to the restrooms.

After she used a stall and checked her makeup was still perfect, she goes out to sit again at the table with her husband.

She spots a man standing next to the window of the restaurant, some tables behind her and Ronnie’s. His hair is dark but they’re some gray hairs that, besides the slight wrinkles of his face, give him in as at least a fifty-year-old man. His gaze is piercing and fixed on Caitlin and before she makes it to the table, unable to apart her eyes from the man’s, she faints.


End file.
